Snapshot
by EllieRose101
Summary: Buffy's been infected with 'an aspect of the demon', meaning she can read people's minds, and it's literally driving her mad. That is until Spike shows up to help. Boy, is she surprised what he's thinking! (Starts off set during Season 3 Episode 18: 'Earshot', then goes AU from there.)
1. Earshot

Earshot

When Spike rolled into town, somewhat more sober than his previous visit, he found the demon community in a stir. At Willy's he overheard someone confirm his worst fears.

Pulling the demon who'd made the comment up by the front of his shirt, Spike snarled in his bright green, scaly, face, "What do you mean the Slayer's lost it? She's been hurt?"

"Oh, hey, Spike," the demon said nervously, "Don't worry, she's not dead. Know that's your job."

The vampire threw him to the ground and delivered a swift kick to his solar plexus. "Gonna ask one more time. What's happened to her?"

"She fought off some beastie the other day," said the demon, in between gasping breaths, "Killed it, I think, but it affected her somehow. She's gone mad."

Spike was in two minds about that. Didn't like the thought of her going crazy, but also knew – after an eternity of being with Dru – that madness wasn't the worst thing ever. Might put a poof like soul-having Angel off, though, and that would just give him a better chance.

Finally he turned away and headed for the door with only one thought on his mind: 'I gotta see her'.

* * *

Buffy tossed restlessly in her bed, unable to calm her mind or even get physical comfort for her unhappy limbs. Something Giles had given her made her drowsy, but the thoughts and voices of others continued on even in sleep – just distorted and mingled to form a headache inducing nightmare that didn't seem to end.

She sat up with a start, when the feel of supernatural tinglies crept up the back of her neck. Their familiarity making her even more confused.

"Angel?" she whispered into the darkness.

"No," a strong English accent replied.

"Spike?! What? Get out. You can't be here!" she said franticly, feeling utterly helpless.

"Not gonna hurt you, pet," he said, coming closer. "Just came to check on you."

"You… you came to – this is another nightmare?"

He blew out a breath, "The idea of me caring about you is nightmarish? I get that. Would have bloody agreed with you a month ago."

"What?"

"Nothing. Rest. Didn't mean to wake you."

Suddenly her jaw dropped open and she got to her feet, pointing a finger at him and saying, "Why did you just think that?!"

"What?" he asked, backing away, "You – you bloody well better not be able to read my mind!"

"I can," she affirmed, then demanded to know, "What are you doing? What kind of game is this?!" as she was suddenly able to focus on a single stream of frantic thought. The other voices seemed to dull, and her heart began to thud as realization dawned on her.

'I'm screwed,' he thought to himself, before saying out loud, "Bloody hell, I have to go."

The slayer was too in shock to argue.

When he climbed out her window again she just stared out into the darkness of her bedroom, repeating to herself, "Spike loves me," until it finally sank in. "Oh God!"

_To be continued... _


	2. Awareness

Awareness

Spike went back to Willy's, and was glad to find the demon he'd beat up earlier was still there.

"Right," he said, holding him up by the throat. "Round two. You're gonna fill me in on all the details."

* * *

_Two months earlier… _

**South America**

Spike was ranting – utterly fed up with Dru's yammering about Buffy – "You're the one who keeps bringing her up! I haven't said a word about the bloody Slayer since we left California! She's on the other side of the planet, Dru! Gone from our lives forever!"

"But you're lying," she snapped in return. "I can still see her. Floating all around you. Laughing. Why don't you push her away?"

"But I did, Pet. I did it for you!" he protested.

"No," she shook her head, then raised her fingertips to his temple. "Look. See."

When they made contact he didn't have a vision, exactly. He didn't 'see' anything, but he felt everything. Understood everything.

"No!" he yelled, and pushed Drusilla away, "You're wrong. No."

Once more she shook her head, "Can't deny it now."

Spike growled, "Dammit. How? I don't… How can I love her?"

With venom she replied, "How indeed! You were mine!" then she slapped him, catching his cheek with her nail and making it bleed. "Not for sharing with sunshine!"

He knew then it was all over, and he did something that shocked himself to his very core: he walked away, and left Drusilla standing there, alone.

She closed her eyes and swayed in the silence, before stepping off into a nearby bar and taking the hand of a demon, informing him, "You'll be my prince now," with a smile.

* * *

The demon didn't have anything else to tell Spike other than what he already had, so the blonde moved up the line, to the demon _that _demon had heard it form, and eventually he got the gist.

"Infected," he mused to himself. "Hmm… Fixable?"

"Was that bit rhetorical?" asked his current victim, to which the vampire brought the broken bottle closer to his face. "Okay, okay! Just asking! I'm sorry."

"Is. It. Fixable?"

"I…" the demon winced. "Yes. They roam in pairs. Get the other one and give her its blood."

"Finally, useful information!" Spike exclaimed, before dropping the demon to the ground. "Now, where do these guys hang-"

He was stopped midsentence, as the original demon came back looking triumphant.

"Hey," he said, "Me and the boys did you a favor."

Spike turned towards him and raised his eyebrows. "Kind of in the middle of something."

"Oh, but you'll wanna hear this. We got the other one. Y'know, that got the slayer?"

All the hostility drained out of the vampire in an instant, and his eyes glowed with joy, but then the demon continued.

"Yeah, we took it out for you. Dunno why you're so upset about it, but it's not gonna do the same to anyone else now."

The vampire's jaw dropped open a little.

"You what?"

"We killed it. Dumped the body in the river. Won't be seeing that again."

Spike killed both of the demons, then, in an overwhelming fury.

"Fuck sake," he said, wiping their blood from off his clothes. "She's got no chance now. Unless…"


	3. Escape

Escape

_One month earlier…_

**Mexico**

Spike paced the length of his room in the small, rundown motel, wondering why he was paying for such a place when he could have just killed the owner and had done with it. Or even killed the owner of a nice place and taken that.

"Damn it," he said to himself, smashing a lamp. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

But he knew the answer. Had been trying to process the answer for four whole weeks, and trying to decide what to do next. "In love with the Slayer. It's sick. I should be put down."

There was a knock at the door.

"Everything okay?" came a heavily accented voice from the other side.

"Bloody brilliant," replied the Englishman, before throwing himself down on the bed.

"Why you never enjoy the sun? Be good for you," the motel manager continued.

"Sod off!" Spike yelled, then thought to himself, 'Guess she is good for me. Ain't that the whole soddin' problem?!'

With a groan the vampire stood up again and opened the door – peeking through it just a crack. "I'm gonna be leaving tonight, okay. You paid up?"

The man nodded and smiled, confirming, "Paid until the end of the week," then his smile faded a little as he asked, "Surely you no want your money back."

Spike shut the door on him again.

That night he drove most of the way to California, only to turn around and drive away again.

'Doesn't matter how I feel,' he thought, 'She's never gonna believe me let alone accept me, so what's the bleedin' point?'

* * *

On the walk back to Buffy's house Spike cursed himself for taking so long to return to Sunnydale. 'Maybe I could have prevented this. Protected her,' he thought, then he said, "Ha!" aloud, "As if."

* * *

For the second time that night Buffy woke to find the blonde vampire in her room.

At first she didn't say anything – just sat uncomfortably and listened to him silently worry about her. Then she yelped, as he swept her up in his arms.

"What the hell are you-"

"Shh, luv, gotta get you outta here."

She was too weak to protest physically, and she didn't want to wake her mom, so it wasn't until he'd laid her across the back seat of his DeSoto and started driving towards the desert that her complaints began.

"You got demon blood all over me!"

Spike rolled his eyes, "Think that's the least of your worries."

Her eyes narrowed as she leaned over to study his face, "What do you know about it?"

"I know you're gonna go mad a hell of a lot quicker stuck in suburbia."

Her eyes went wide again. "You're not lying."

Turning his own eyes away from the road, he looked at her saying, "Course not."

"Why do you care?" she asked then, but then cut him off before he could answer, "No, not why. How?"

Suddenly his focus returned to the asphalt, and he stopped speaking, but that didn't stop her from hearing him loud and clear.

"I don't understand," she said at last.

"Well," he replied, "That's something we can agree on, eh?"

There was silence again, for a while, but Spike couldn't stop thinking about all the things he wanted to explain. Eventually it was too much for the Slayer, and she got him to pull over.

Still sat in the car she said, "I don't want excuses, or reasons, just cold hard facts. Where are you taking me?"

"Mexico," he replied.

"Why?"

"I know a guy down there – er, demon, actually – think he can cure you."

Buffy nodded, then suddenly changed tack, "How long have you felt this way?"

His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, "Longer than I was aware of it, apparently."

"Hmm," she murmured, and then he asked her a question.

"You're not gonna stake me for this, are you? When you're well, I mean."

She shook her head, deciding to be honest with him, "No. I couldn't."

"Why?"

"I… I'd feel bad about it."

"Why?" he asked again, and she punched his arm. "Hey, what's tha' for?"

"My head was just starting to feel better, and you made it hurt again."

"Fine," he said nonchalantly, with a shrug.

"That act works better when I can't hear you, y'know."

"I know," he admitted, roughly pulling out a cigarette and lighting up, "What else can I do, though?"

The Slayer shrugged then, herself.

"Look," the vampire spoke again, "It's late. We're not gonna get the whole way down there by dawn, and you need rest. We should stop to sleep. What do you say?"

Buffy looked out of the window – noticing for the first time how badly peeled the black paint on the windows was. "Sleep where?"

* * *

Spike pulled a tent out of the car's trunk and threw it at the Slayer's feet.

"Not good enough, but it'll do."

"Good enough for what?"

"You, you moron," he snapped, before lowering his tone at her raised fist. "Right okay, drop the act, got it. Jus' meant you deserve more, is all."

Buffy relaxed her stance. Even pretending she might hit him again drained her of what little energy she had.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"No probs," he replied. "I'll get this up. You should lay down, in the backseat. Rest. I think some of Dru's old clothes are in there, somewhere, if you wanna change."

"I'm not gonna wear Drusilla's clothes!" Buffy yelled, then blushed as Spike thought about how he'd rather see her without anything on at all, before he could stop himself.

Seeing color return to her cheeks he looked away and pulled at the tent again, snapping once more, "You're the one bloody well complaining about demon blood, stupid bint."

Buffy didn't pull him up on it; knowing he felt exposed, and was lashing out just to make himself feel more in control; knowing he was berating himself for his slip. Silently she did as he suggested, only to return twenty minutes later in a black velvet dress that was too long for her.

"Don't laugh, okay?" she said to Spike's back, as he put in the last peg.

Turning to face her he gasped, a little.

She would have felt self conscious in that moment, but he was silently appraising her figure.

He approached her, and knelt down, gesturing to the fabric that trailed in the sand.

Buffy nodded, and he ripped it away, leaving the garment knee length.

Spike stood again, and took her hand, leading her to the tent, where he'd laid out a single sleeping bag for her.

"You don't need one?" she asked.

"Nah. The cold doesn't bother me."

"Right," she nodded, sitting down, "This is awkward."

"Sorry, I'll…" he muttered, cutting himself off as he turned to face away from her.

Her heart was hammering in her chest.

"Sleep, Slayer," he told her, "I won't hurt you."

"I know," she replied, quietly. Then she did sleep – more restfully than she'd done in two days.

* * *

Buffy woke up suddenly, gasping for breath.

"What's wrong?" Spike asked, panicked. "Nightmare. Visions?"

She shook her head. "Heat. Too much. Need- can't breathe."

"Oh, uh…" Spike looked about him, then looked at her again, guiltily. "I didn't bring water."

"It's okay," she panted, looking around the tent herself. It was practically glowing from the desert sun outside. "Just need to cool down."

"I, uh…" he mumbled again.

"Take off your coat," she instructed.

"What?"

"You're the coldest thing for miles. Coat off, now."

Without another word he complied, and was rewarded with her sitting down in his lap.

"Buffy," he began.

"No," she admonished, "No words. No thoughts. Just cooling down. Awkward enough. Need to breathe."

"Right you are."

_To be continued... _


	4. Awkwardness

Awkwardness

"Buffy," said Spike.

"I told you no speaking," she replied.

"Yeah, well, that was twenty minutes ago. I think we passed awkward about three stops back."

Taking her head off his shoulder to look him in the eye she asked, "You really think talking about it is going to make it_ less_ awkward?"

"We can't bloody well sit in silence. Not like this."

She sighed and said, "I know," but held him tighter. "This whole thing is crazy."

"Too right," he agreed.

"So why do I feel more sane right now than I've done in days?"

"Because you've only got two sets of thoughts running through y'r head instead of a whole town's worth."

"No," she shook her head, "I felt I was breaking down before that, too. And that was just my own head."

"Why?" he asked, and once more she was struck by how sincere his concern for her was.

Buffy sighed before telling him, "There's been a lot of confusion; with Faith, mostly. She's switched sides."

"Faith?"

"Other Slayer."

"What?!"

"Yeah, there's another one of me - except evil."

The vampire looked perplexed, and for a split second Buffy had the fear that Spike would want to go after Faith and forget all about her. 'What is wrong with me?' she thought. 'I should_ not_ be worried about Spike wanting her. I should be worried about _my_ boyfriend, who I left alone in the same town with her, oh god!'

Briefly zoning back out of her own internal monologue she caught the end of Spike's. 'An evil Slayer. So dangerous,' he thought, 'We gotta fix this.'

_We_. She liked the sound of that, but she wasn't about to admit it out loud. With Angel it never felt like a true partnership. They weren't equal. But Spike? Buffy believed he'd treat her like a woman, not a confused teenager.

'Yet another dangerous situation, right there,' she mused. She'd been blindsided again. 'Some part of the Powers that Be has a lot to answer for!'

After more silence and forlorn looks Buffy concluded, "I think the temporary sanity amidst the craziness is you."

"Okay." He wasn't about to argue with that.

"I mean," she continued, "There are big BIG issues here," – he nodded – "But somehow I- it's like I don't need to process them? I get to skip out all the second guessing bit."

"Makes sense."

"Does it?"

"I guess," he shrugged, "Look, Buffy, I was planning to be straight with you. Well, as straight as a twisted kinda bloke like I am can be. I never expected you to believe me. Damn well never expected you to be _forced _to believe me! But I guess it does make things simpler, to know I'm not hiding anything. Still, you're handling it well."

The Slayer hung her head, "I don't think Giles would think I'm doing too great. He'd be so disappointed."

"And why the fuck is that?"

Still unable to look him in the eye she admitted, "Because I'm with you."

"Hardly had a choice," he countered.

"Could have done something differently. Somehow. Shouldn't be here, telling you about my problems."

Spike's eyes narrowed, "Anyone back there you can tell your problems to?"

Buffy was silent, which was answer enough.

"Okay," the vampire continued, "You can't be straight with them, because they expect you to have everything together, right?"

In a small voice she agreed, "Right."

"Well it's not bloody good enough."

Her eyes shot up again, to focus on his.

"They shouldn't put that pressure on you. Not on top of saving the soddin' planet every weekend."

"It's not their fault."

"Yeah? Well it aint yours, either."

There was another break of silence.

"Ironic question I know, but how can you read me so well?"

He shrugged. "Talent. Plus, you wear that bloody big heart of yours on your shoulder."

"Look who's talking," she teased.

"Hey, I put a lot of effort into the big bad persona!"

Buffy laughed, "You do. And it works, too. Until you pay attention."

She was staring at his lips, and he moved to kiss her, but she pulled away at the last moment.

"We can't."

"Right," he said.

'Like fuck,' he thought.

Then Buffy pulled away completely. "What are we gonna do about the no water thing?"

_To be continued... _


	5. Together 'till Sundown

Together 'till Sundown

The Slayer extracted herself from Spike's arms, only to jump back into them again a moment later.

"Fuck, is it always so hot out here?!" she exclaimed.

"Well, it is the desert, luv."

"I know," she pouted. "I've driven through before, but I've never felt like I was gonna burn to death. What gives?"

The vampire shrugged – as much as he was able to with Buffy tightly pinning his arms to his side. "Cars have air con, init?"

She looked at him suddenly and asked, "Does yours?"

He shook his head, "'Fraid not, ducks."

"Damn it."

"You really hating the situation that much?"

"Yes!" she answered, more forcefully than intended. She caught a flash of pain across his face, and the corresponding swear words in his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Yes you did," he interjected.

Buffy hung her head. "I guess. Maybe I did. But I am sorry. It wasn't supposed to come out like that."

He tried to shrug again.

"I don't want to hurt you," she whispered.

"Yeah? Seems bloody inevitable now. Shoulda never come back."

"I'm glad you did."

His eyes lit up, "Really?"

Filling with guilt again she clarified, "I'd be dead otherwise. Or crazy."

"Right."

Silence filled the tent once more, until Buffy groaned under the tension of it.

"What can I say?" Spike finally asked. "What can I do to make this easier?"

She had no answer for him. Instead she said, "Explain something to me."

"What?"

"Dru broke up with you before your last visit."

"Yeah," he clenched his fists at the memory.

"And she did that because you– because of how you feel."

"Yeah," he said again, "Which part needs explaining?"

"The bit where you came back looking for a way to make her want you again."

"Oh," he nodded his head. "Gotcha. Well, you see, she broke up with me for that reason, but she didn't actually_ tell_ me that until after I'd found her again. The little revelation happened after I was last in town."

"You really had no idea how you felt?"

"I… I don't know. Was thinking about you a lot. But mainly in the 'I wanna kill you' way."

"Mainly?"

"Bloody hell, yeah. There were other thoughts. Of course there were. You're fucking beautiful. I didn't think it meant anything."

The Slayer's brow furrowed, "So, you had thoughts about me? About how pretty I am." – she shook her head – "That doesn't equal love, Spike."

That made him angry. "Don't you think I bloody know that?!" he yelled. "You think I don't know what love is? 'Course it's more than wanting your body. Bloody hell, Buffy! I was with Dru for over a century. She sired me! And I walked away from her. I thought this" – he gesticulated – "With the thought reading. I thought you'd have no doubt how real my feelings are. Don't you dare talk to me like I don't know the difference. Not now."

Buffy was taken aback. It was a minute before she could respond.

"That's not what I-" she began to explain, but the vampire was glaring at her, so she gulped before trying again. "I know it's real, okay? Pretty much the main reason I haven't completely flipped out and tried to kill you. I just meant that it's a big leap. Y'know, from wanting someone in… in that way, and then loving them." She shook her head, "I just don't know how you weren't more aware of the process."

He looked at the floor of the tent, then back into her eyes. "Maybe I didn't wanna be aware," he admitted.

Buffy nodded, "I guess that makes sense."

Spike blew out a breath, then apologized for snapping at her.

Again the Slayer was surprised.

"I had no idea how good you were, underneath," she said.

"M' not good," he replied.

"You can be! I've seen it. Heard it! I believe in you, Spike."

His eyes welled up at her words, then his brain kicked in, and he tried to shut down the feeling.

"Doesn't matter, though, does it?" he asked.

Buffy felt grieved for his inner turmoil. "I guess not. I mean, I'm with-"

"Yeah," he cut her off, repeating, "Doesn't matter."

"What happens now?"

"We wait for sundown. Should be…" – he thought for a moment – "About three hours from now. Then we finish the drive. Get you sorted and get you back to Angel."

"Right," said Buffy, who was suddenly thankful that the mind-reading was only one way, because if Spike knew how much she didn't want to go back, it would only make things harder, she thought.

_To be continued... _


	6. Over the Border

Over the Border

Spike was silent as he drove Buffy across into Mexico. What could he say? What could she?

"Too awkward," she muttered.

'There's that word again,' he thought.

Changing tack Buffy asked, "Can we trust this demon you're bringing me to?"

Spike considered that. He wondered if she'd ever truly trust any demon – himself and Angel included.

The Slayer groaned.

"What?!" he exclaimed.

"You!" she replied, "You with your thoughts!"

The vampire rolled his eyes, "Me and my thoughts will go away soon, don't worry."

Buffy pouted.

"Now what?!"

Worrying her lip she admitted, "I don't want you to go away."

Spike sped up and said nothing.

"And, for the record," she continued, "I trust you."

The car slowed down again and he looked her in the eye.

"Why?"

She shrugged, "You're very honest for an evil guy."

That made him chuckle, "That I am. Anyways, yeah, I trust this demon can fix you up. And if he pulls anything _he_ can put money on me taking him out. That make you feel any better?"

"Strangely, yes," Buffy said, with a smile.

Moments later they pulled up to a motel. "He lives here?"

Spike shook his head, "Next town over. First I get you food, and water, and clothes and whatever else you need, and then we see him. Okay?"

The Slayer eyed him suspiciously – knowing full well that part of him wanted to drag the whole thing out, but also that a greater part wanted her healed as soon as possible.

"Okay," she finally agreed. "You gonna eat?"

"Yeah, 'M gonna – damn."

"Did you seriously just realize the butcher was shut?"

The vampire sighed, "Forgot he closes early on Thursdays. Can't be expected to remember everything."

"_So _not the point!" she replied, "You've been bagging it?"

"Huh? Oh," he raked a hand through his hair, "Yeah."

"You… you haven't been killing humans? For… for me?"

"Yeah," he said again.

"But you didn't think I'd believe you, or that it would make any difference."

"Bloody hell, yes! What is this, twenty bleeding questions?!"

"I'm just surprised."

"Yeah, 'n I'm a whipped bloody poodle, can we move on?"

Just then she reached up to kiss him, only to stop at the last minute, turn around and cringe. "Sorry. Sorry!"

"Oh, fuck," he replied, "I'm off. Don't die or anything."

"Spike, wait."

He shook his head, "Gimmie twenty minutes, Slayer. I'll be back."

* * *

Buffy lay on the bed and waited for Spike to return, wishing she had the energy to put all of her apprehension into pacing.

"I'm a horrible person," she said to herself. "A horrible, cheating, stupid person – with a happy for vampires, apparently. Great. Giles is _so_ gonna kill me."

Just then the door opened, and in Spike walked. "Y'know, Slayer," he said. "Talking to yourself's the first sign of madness."

She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Sorry," he retracted. "That probably wasn't helpful."

Then she smiled, despite herself. "What you get?"

* * *

Twenty minutes later Buffy suddenly said "Hey," with a mouth full of taco.

"What?" Spike asked.

"I just realized something."

"What?!" Spike repeated.

"Angel," she replied, and he winced. "I couldn't read his thoughts. He said it didn't work on vampires."

"Pah, yeah!" he waved away her comment, "Peaches says a lot of things."

"What does that mean?"

Spike held up his hands, "Not getting involved. You can ask him yourself. He's _your_ boyfriend."

She winced at that, but let the topic drop.

Pointing to her plate he asked, "You ready to go as soon as you're done with that?"

The Slayer shook her head, "I gotta call Giles. And Mom. And Willow. God! They're all gonna kill me! Was it so hard to leave a note?!"

'Was too worried about you,' he thought, then, and she couldn't stay angry with him. Not when he was looking at her silently, with moon eyes.

In a softer tone she asked, "Is there a phone nearby?"

"One beside you, sweets."

"I…" she pointed to the device on her right, "That thing's a phone?"

"Yeah, luv," he answered, with a smile, "That particular model's p'rolly older than you are."

Rolling her eyes and picking it up, Buffy exclaimed, "This place _totally_ needs to modernize."

Her watcher answered on the second ring and jumped right into it.

"Giles! Giles, I'm okay. Wow. Okay, not okay. I can hear your thoughts down the phone. Calm down a minute, would you?"

He wouldn't calm down. Completely frantic with both silent and spoken worry, he was hurting the Slayer. Hesitantly she passed the handset to Spike and told him to explain, as she took a step back. "Oh, and ask about the threat against the school. Find out if everyone's okay."

The vampire shook his head fractionally as he thought, 'At death's door and she's still thinking of everyone else.'

When he put the phone down he told her the scoobies had stopped both a suicide and mass murder.

"I know," she replied. "You thought it as you heard it."

"That's still really weird, y'know," he commented, and she nodded. "I'm impressed with your merry band, though."

Buffy smiled weakly, "Yeah. We… We're…"

That was it. She lost consciousness mid-sentence.

_To be continued... _


	7. Payment

Payment

Spike panicked and carried Buffy back out to the car without gathering anything he'd bought for her or even shutting the motel door behind him. In that moment nothing mattered but getting her help, and he'd do anything to make sure she got it.

His driving was faster and less considerate of other road users than usual as he constantly took his eyes from the road to focus on the Slayer beside him, listening for any changes in her heart rate or breathing. When they arrived he didn't stop the engine, just jumped out and lifted her with him, once again leaving the doors wide and the lights on.

With his arms full he reached the steel door and kicked it with his boot several times until it opened, allowing him entry.

"Bruce!" he barked, "Heal her. Now. You've got to!"

Bruce was a seven foot demon that looked human in every way aside from his eyes, which were luminous purple.

"This is the Slayer," he said, calmly, as he strolled over to where Spike had laid her, "Why have you brought her here?"

"Didn't you hear me? She's sick. Ill – er, infected. Needs help."

Bruce shook his head, "I know what's wrong with her, but why did _you _bring her to me?"

The vampire punched a wall. "Can you get to the twenty bleeding questions later? We don't have time for this!"

"You love her," Bruce said then.

"Yes!" Spike snapped, "Why do you even fucking bother asking questions when you already bloody know. Jus' soddin' fix her!"

The demon looked bored. "There'll be a price, of course," he said.

"Price. Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll pay it. Whatever it is."

"You'll give me anything?"

"Bloody hell, yes! Get on with it!"

"Very well."

Spike let out a sigh of relief as he watched Bruce cross the room and pick up an a vial of amber liquid, which he injected in the Slayer's arm.

"You knew we were comin'," he stated.

"Of course," the demon replied, as he then lifted a second vial – an empty one – and moved towards Buffy again.

"Hey, hey, no!" Spike leapt up, stopping him. "What are you doing?"

"Drawing blood," was the simple response.

"I don't bloody think so, mate. Didn't agree to give you any of 'er juice."

"Didn't you?" asked Bruce, as if talking to five year old, "I thought your terms of 'anything' as payment were fairly clear."

"No," said the vampire, "You can have anything, of_ mine_. Can't take from her."

The demon smiled, revealing eight rows of tiny razor sharp teeth.

Spike was about to say something again when he felt a hand on his arm. Looking down he saw Buffy had began to wake and his debate was pushed aside.

"Slayer," he said, softly, as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "God, I never thought I'd be so happy to see you wake up."

She smiled in return, weakly, then winced.

"You still in pain, kitten?"

"Yeah," she said, with a pout, "Everything's still kinda loud."

"Still hearing silence?"

"Yeah."

That was enough. Spike snapped and grabbed the demon by his lapels. "You wanna tell me why in hell she's not better?"

With no trace of emotion at all Bruce said, "It'll take a while. Say an hour or so, and she'll be normal again. There is the, ah, matter of payment?"

"You're not taking a damn drop from her! Can't you see she's weak?!"

Buffy called to him again then, and he returned to her side, while keeping Bruce locked with a glare.

"Yes, pet?"

"How much does he want?"

"Doesn't-" he began to protest, but she placed her hand on his arm again, and drew the focus of his eyes to her.

"How much?"

"Just a vial full. Not much at all," answered Bruce.

"What's it for?"

"My collection, of course, dear."

"You," – she coughed a little, trying to sit up – "You collect blood?"

"Oh, no," the demon replied, "I collect rare things."

"Right," she said, holding out her arm, "Well, I guess I can spare a little."

"Buffy, no," Spike pleaded, "That wasn't the deal. Look, Bruce, take anything of mine you want."

"You think she isn't yours?" asked Bruce, smiling again.

"She's not," said the vampire, looking downcast.

"No," he agreed, "Not yours."

Buffy's eyes went wide as she heard Bruce finish the sentence in his head, 'Not yours, not yet'.

She didn't question what that meant. It required more brain power than she had available in that moment.

"Just get it over with so we can go back," she said, "I still had half a taco left."

Spike allowed himself a little grin at her levity, and resigned himself to the fact she'd do what she wanted.

_To be continued... _


	8. Home Truths

Home Truths

Buffy stomped into Angel's mansion and glared at him. Crossing her arms she demanded, "Why did you lie to me?"

"Buffy, what? Where have you been?"

"I'm asking the questions. Why did you lie?"

Suddenly he was on the defensive, "Lie about what?"

Her eyes narrowed, suddenly wondering if there was more than one possible answer to the question. "You said I couldn't read your thoughts because you were a vampire. That's a crock. How did you hide them?"

"What did Spike say?" he asked, then, avoiding her question again. She was silent, so he explained, "His scent is all over you."

* * *

Buffy had really enjoyed the drive back to Sunnydale with Spike, over the two days that it took, despite knowing that they'd part when the car finally came to a halt, or maybe _because_ of knowing that, she wasn't sure. She just knew she didn't want it to end. When his thoughts finally stopped flowing through her head she expected to be relieved, but instead there was a touch of panic. It had been refreshing for her not to have to second guess his motives, or have to deal with mixed signals. 'No,' she thought. 'I have Angel for that'.

Coming out of her reverie, after what felt like an eternity, the Slayer turned back to the brooding vampire in question and said, "This isn't about him. I'm sure Giles already told you he was helping me get cured. I want to know what you did and-"

"It was a spell," he finally admitted, cutting her off. "I did a spell. Or, had one done for me. Couldn't have you in my head."

"Why?"

"Buffy just stop, okay? I had my reasons."

"No. I won't stop. Not when you were the one saying I should be honest with you. Is it… is it Faith?"

Angel shook his head in irritation, "The only one obsessed with her is you."

"Don't you dare!" she spat. "You're in no position to throw accusations around. Is it any wonder I'm suspicious?"

There was silence for a long minute, and then he hung his head, "No."

The Slayer was in shock. She knew she demanded truth from him, and she already had a good idea he was hiding something, but she didn't for one second expect him to actually say as much.

Against her better judgment, and against the part of her head that was yelling at her to run from the place and find Spike, she sat down and forced herself to calm.

"What is it?" she said, quietly.

"Do we have to do this now? Aren't there more import-"

"We have to do it now. I don't care what apocalypse we're facing. I won't – _can't_ – work with you if I don't trust you. Tell me, Angel, what is it?"

"I…" he hesitated, before stating bluntly, "I don't think things are working out between us."

Once more shock tore through the Slayer's body, but she forced herself not to react.

Still speaking quietly she asked, "Is this because I've been with Spike for like a week, or was that what you were thinking before? What you were trying to hide?"

"Before," he stated, and the knowledge was finally too much for her. She shot to her feet and pointed a finger at him.

"You bastard!" she yelled. "After _everything_?!"

He tried to explain himself, but she wouldn't let him.

"Before I went," she continued, "You looked in my eyes and told me we were forever. _Forever_, Angel! That's what you said. And you were thinking about leaving me then? God, do you know how bad that is?!"

"I won't," he said, then. "I mean, I was thinking of moving to L.A., after everything with the Mayor and Faith is done. But I won't. I can stay."

Buffy looked confused. "But you said things weren't working out," she said, trying to process everything, when something clicked. "Wait a second."

"I know what I said but-"

"No!" she interrupted, "You've said quite a bit. I think it's my turn. And, honestly? Your word's pretty much shot to shit right now. You… You just want to stay with me so Spike can't have me, don't you?"

"Buffy, don't be-"

"Don't lie to me, Angel!" she screamed. "If I hadn't of gone with him – If you take him out of this whole thing – would you be breaking up with me?"

"You can't take him out of '_this whole thing_'," was the only answer he gave, and that's when she couldn't hold back the tears any more. Angel carried on talking despite them, telling her that Spike wasn't right for her, and that she couldn't trust him.

She barked out a laugh at that. "That's rich, coming from you. Wanna know something about Spike? I don't need to wonder about him. Three days of reading his mind? Knowing so many of his thoughts are full of me? Full of concern and love for me? I think I haven't enough certainty of his feelings for life. I can trust_ that_. But you… You're the only monster in this situation."

With tears dripping down her face, she turned on her heel and walked out.

Getting to the sidewalk she saw Spike behind the wheel of his car, waiting for her. She thought he might do that, and had told him not to, but in that moment she was glad he'd stayed.

He had suggested they don't go back to the Hellmouth at all. She expected the suggestion, at the time. She even knew _he_ knew what her answer would be, before he asked, but he couldn't help himself from asking anyway.

"We can't run away," she'd told him, "Or, well, we can't _stay_ run away." She had bit back the bit where she almost told him how much she wanted to stay with him.

Things were different after she left the mansion, though. After she left her relationship with Angel in tatters. She got in Spike's car and he didn't say a word; just gave her hand a little squeeze before returning it to the wheel.

"Drive," she told him.

_To be continued... _


	9. Drive

Drive

When they'd got a couple of miles out of town Spike pulled over, and almost instantly the Slayer jumped on him, furiously attacking his lips with her own. He responded, of course, and ran his hands down her arms as his mouth worked in sync with hers, then he took a firm hold of her upper arms and pushed her away so she was looking at him.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Kissing you," she replied, before doing so again. After a couple more moments he pulled back again.

"Buffy, have you thought this through?"

"No," she answered, leaning in a final time, but he didn't engage. "What? Isn't this what I wanted?"

"Bloody hell. Yes. Want it so much. Want you, but-"

She looked down at her hands nervously as she cut him off. "But not when I'm looking all gross from crying. A big ol' mess with running make-up, and a red face and-"

"Are you off your trolley, Slayer?" he cut her off. "Obviously I don't want to see you in bloody tears, but not because it makes you anything less than ravishing. I just don't wanna do anything you'll regret."

She was silent, and he continued.

"Don't know what went on back there, but I have a fair idea. Kitten, look at me," he pleaded, and she obliged. "I love you. And I think there's a spark in you – some attraction for me that you've got. And damn if I don't wanna explore that, but not if it's gonna be some rebound thing. If… If that's all you need then I'm not gonna play this round."

Buffy started to cry again, and was silently cursing herself for doing so. She looked away from Spike again, then said, "I'm sorry. I don't know what I need. I just... Take me away? Just for a night? I can't think right now."

"Sure thing, Slayer," he drawled. "One more night of clemency before facing the family."

He started driving again. "Motel or tent?" he asked.

"Motel. Have you got enough cash?"

"Yeah, Slayer. I'll see you right."

"Know you will," she replied, wiping her face and then yawning, before curling into his side and falling asleep on his shoulder.

She woke up an hour later in a double bed – alone. It was twenty minutes after that before Spike walked in through the door to the room.

"Mornin'," he said, despite it being midnight.

Buffy was frowning at him, and he held up his hands in surrender. "Look, not trying to be a prat. A double was all they had. I'll take the floor, if you want."

Her expression lightened, admitting, "Hadn't even noticed that problem."

He quirked an eyebrow at her, and she explained, "Was just wondering how you managed to get me all tucked in without me waking up."

"Oh. Well, I guess you were knackered. Don't blame you. Peaches would take it out of anyone."

She pulled a face at the reference to Angel, and Spike pretended he didn't make it, barreling right on with his original point. "I should let you rest more."

She nodded, and he took off his duster and placed it on a chair. "Floor will be better than this thing. More like a torture device than a piece of furniture."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I'm not gonna make you sleep on the floor."

He looked stricken. "Buffy-" he began, but then he didn't know where to go from there, so he just looked at the girl in question.

"You were right," she said.

"Can I get that in writing?" he joked, and she smiled.

"Why not? I'm feeling generous."

"What was I right about?"

"Everything."

"Bloody hell, Slayer. You ill again?"

She ignored that comment, and explained, "You were right about Angel. About him saying a lot of stuff. A lot of not true stuff. And you were right about me being on the rebound. We… I… He broke up with me. And I-"

"Wait," the vampire held up a hand, "Hang on a bloody second. _He_ broke up with _you_?"

"Yeah," she admitted, suddenly feeling guilty. Spike was furious – cursing under his breath and looking around the room wildly as if deciding what to break.

"I'm sorry," Buffy whispered.

His head shot up at that. "What?"

"I didn't mean to make you feel like the only reason I wanted you, was because he didn't want me. I… that's not it at all. I do want you. That's another thing you were right about."

Spike shook his head. "You can be so soddin' stupid sometimes, you know that, Slayer?"

"Hey!"

Pointing to his skull he said, "You were in my head for three days and you're so off the mark with how I think."

"Huh?"

Rolling his eyes again he walked over and sat down beside her. "I'm not angry with you, pet. I'm pissed at the great poof."

"For breaking up with me? I thought-"

"For hurting you, you daft bint. For having the best thing in the world and then fucking throwing it away. I always knew he was a thick, but this tops it."

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me."

"You sure? Not a-"

"Not a rebound thing. A me wanting you thing."

"Well, all right then.

_To be continued... _


	10. Resting Assurance

Resting Assurance

Kissing lead to Spike lying beside Buffy in the bed – her under the covers, him on top – both fully clothed. She had her arms around his neck, and he had one hand cradling the back of her head while his other rested at her waist. The Slayer was panting.

"Want you," she said, for the fourth time in as many minutes.

"I know," was his response.

"Don't think we should-"

"I know."

Buffy groaned, then. "Being responsible sucks."

Spike chuckled and held back an inappropriate joke. Instead he said, "There's no rush. 'M gonna still be here tomorrow."

Unable to stop the insecure part of her brain rushing forward she asked, "You will?"

"Be around as long as you'll put up with me, pet."

Buffy looked away, before admitting in a small voice, "That means a lot."

"Hey, now," Spike comforted, "How could I go anywhere? Fuck, Buffy, have you seen yourself?"

She shook her head, and he clarified.

"Not that. Not looks. I mean… you're jus' bloody amazing. 'M drawn to you, despite what I am. Should pull away, but I can't. I… I'm not asking you for anything. I'm in love with what you are. _Everything_ you are. And it has nothing to do with me. It's all about you."

"I… That's intense."

The vampire barked out a short laugh. "Don' you think I know that? Try running around with it beating in yer head. Can't get away from it. Don't bloody want to!"

Buffy's voice suddenly sounded small again when she asked, "What if I never feel that? That deeply?"

"Then I'll still love you. Ain't you been listening? What you do can't change this. I'm drownin' in you, Summers, I'm drowning in you."

"God!" she exclaimed.

"What?"

"You make everything- with the words. You're so…"

"Eloquent?"

"Yeah."

Spike smiled – a bashful grin. "It's nothin'. Know I'm a prat for admittin' most of this."

"No!" Buffy sat up in protest, pushing him back off her slightly as a result. "No. This is good. Communication definitely a good thing!"

"Well, there's not much bloody point in me watering it down now, is there? Not when you've heard it run through my skull at the same time I do."

"Guess not," Buffy said with a smile. "Still. It's good. It's… reassuring."

"You're lot put a lotta doubt in you, huh?"

She shook her head.

"Yeah, they do. I can see it. They make you second guess yourself," – he shook his head then – "It's a weakness. You need to trust your instinct."

The Slayer shifted her weight uncomfortably and looked away again. "Instinct can lead to bad things."

"Bloody hell, Slayer, you don't blame yourself for what happened with Peaches, do you?"

With a hard glare she threw the question back, "How can I not?"

"Because it wasn't your bloody fault!" he all but yelled, and her eyes began to water. "Shit." He continued. "I didn't-"

"You really don't blame me?"

"Of course not, pet? How could you have known?"

"I…" – Buffy wiped at her eyes and cursed her overwrought emotions once more – "I couldn't. But… But everything that happened-"

"Wasn't your fault."

Buffy threw herself into his arms again, and sobbed at the weight lifting off her chest that she hadn't even known she'd been carrying. After a while of silence filling the room, and their embrace continuing on with no end in sight, Spike said, "Listen, pet. I reckon there's a thing or two I could teach you."

Her eyebrow shot up in question, and he ignored it, continuing. "Know a thing or two about instinct, and Slayers, and yeah, even love, and regret. What I wanna do… Buffy, if you'll let me, I wanna help you forget the lot of it."

"What?"

"I wanna give you the world, Slayer. Jus' for a bit. Let you lose and be a soddin' teenager without havin' to worry about anything."

"I'm gonna hold you to that."

"Good! Now budge up, an' make some room for me. Gotta get you some real rest before tomorrow."

They fell asleep holding each other tight.

_To be continued... _


End file.
